


Offer me that deathless Death

by Lojuba



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Established Relationship, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Nogitsune, Recovery, Somewhat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20367181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lojuba/pseuds/Lojuba
Summary: He knew that he reeked of fear and nerves, because Derek watched him with somber eyes, as he entered the room. Just like every time they did this.The mood changed slowly, after that initiate acknowledgement of pain, Derek saw Stiles calm down, felt the acrid stench of his anxiety leave his scent.It was still daunting to have this effect on the teen. To be the one capable of chasing the demons away, when all he'd ever been before, was the one who was being haunted, instead.Edited 10/27/2019





	Offer me that deathless Death

Stiles hadn’t gotten a good night of sleep in weeks. He’d slept in the way other people took quick power naps, keys loosely in his hand, wide awake again, as soon as they hit the floor.  
  
But that was okay. 

He wasn’t stressing himself out about it, because he knew why he couldn’t do it and he knew those reasons wouldn't change for a long time.  
  
All he could do was hope that his perspective on them would be different someday.  
  
Right now he was just trying not to think too much about the demon.  
  
The very thing that had wreaked havoc in his mind, private life and friendships. The one, that terrorized his thoughts and feelings in nightmares, still.  
  
That was all he could really do, anyway.  
  
Try.

The what-ifs were what got to him, the most.  
  
_What if they hadn’t stopped him, it, them?_  
  
_ What if he hadn’t regained control?_  
  
_ What if it happened again?_  
  
Thinking about what he could have lost, without being able to do anything, was the stuff of his worst nightmares on repeat.

  
  
  
**X**  
  
  
  
  
He’d been willing himself to think of something positive for the last hour.   
  
He had survived.  
  
Being alive was good.  
  
Being alive meant he still had the opportunity to try and change things for the better.  
  
To protect people.  
  
They all lost too much already and there was nothing he could do about that, but he could work with Allison’s father, if he ever came back. Give him the information he needed to go after the creatures, that deserved to be taken down.  
  
He was prepared to do anything to help Scott deal with his grief.  
  
He could maybe even try and help Lydia overcome her own.

_Who was he kidding?_  
  
He wasn’t the hero of this story.  
  
He was good at solving mysteries and finding patterns. But this wasn't about making sense of the chaos. This was about empathy. About braving your own feelings and trying to connect to someone else. 

And those weren't his strengths. Talking grief meant talking about his mom. Braving himself meant talking about what it was like not being in control. Watching, feeling, seeing but not acting on it. It meant admitting to having been a jailor in his own fucking mind.

He certainly wouldn’t help anybody in this situation.  
  
**Okay, **so this limbo wasn’t exactly a positive train of thought, but it was the best his mind would give him, and it would have to do for now.  
  
  
  
  
**X**

The scratching on his bedroom window announced the arrival of the person that had become a welcome distraction to everything.

He had come to wait for the familiar sound. The one that announced that he was about to be freed from his mind.  
  
It had become somewhat of a ritual.  
  
Derek wasn’t a cuddler.  
  
But that wasn’t what Stiles needed him for anyway.  
  
He loved the warmth, the closeness, the rawness, and the vulnerability that came with sex and every night, that Derek climbed into his room, he felt his body yearn for it.  
  
Latch onto the desperate idea, that he didn’t have to be anymore.  
  
Bask in the freedom that came with letting go.  
  
Laugh at the irony of distracting himself from the loss of his innocence, which had come with what he'd let happen, watched happen, while the demon reigned over him, by losing another kind of innocence. Not that Derek had been his first. No, but there was something decidedly depraved in the way he let himself be used and used in return. Just chasing that deathless death. That moment of silence, that was followed by utter exhaustion and bone deep satisfaction.  
  
He knew that he reeked of fear and nerves, because Derek watched him with somber eyes, as he entered the room. Just like every time they did this.  
  
The mood changed slowly, after that initiate acknowledgement of pain, Derek felt Stiles calm down, felt the acrid stench of his anxiety leave his scent.  
  
It was still daunting to have this effect on the teen. To be the one capable of chasing the demons away, when all he'd ever been before, was the one who was being haunted, instead.  
  
They had sex every time he climbed into Stiles' bedroom and they knew that tonight wouldn’t be any different.   
  
When they did, it felt like he could let himself fall and explore and move the way he wanted to, without reigning his wolf in, without having to think about what’s appropriate or what should be done because nothing about this was appropriate.  
  
So who cared, if he licked along Stiles armpit or pushed his face against Stiles balls or marked him as much as he could, without hurting him or hurt him in that way he so desperately wanted to be hurt in? Who cared if he was half transformed, somewhere between Beta shift and not, who cared if he pushed his fangs against Stiles jugular, teasing something that would never happen?

It’s a grasp of what it feels like to let your instincts take over, to let the wolf reign. To let go. To lose control.  
  
It’s freedom and it's messy, and it's everything he ever wanted.  
  
Drowning in the feeling of doing something right, drowning in the feeling of being someone good, acting on what he needed, focused on chasing after that high. That sweet moment of completion.  
  
It was the only time he felt whole anymore.  
  
He’d had a lot of sex in his life. Used it to shut down before, doing exactly what Stiles was doing with him.  
  
But he’d never been able to let go like this, without feeling guilty or fearing that he was taking too much and not giving enough. Fearing that he was being selfish.  
  
He didn’t have these thoughts with Stiles.  
  
The teen was anything, if not determined to shut them both up for as long as they did whatever they did. To say, they were rough was putting it mildly.  
  
Stiles wasn’t shy. He was clear in how he wanted to be touched and he was loud in his approval and fast in his rejection.  
  
If Derek did something that Stiles hated, he got shoved away, and vice versa.  
  
They taught each other in a way that had little to do with love making and everything to do with desperate, unapologetic lust.  
  
Nothing about this was about taking too much, because each one of them threw their all into it and hoped for dear life, that they came out of it whole.  
  
If this was what Stiles needed to feel human again, he could give him that.   
  
It came so natural to them, that when Stiles fell asleep on him, that night, he didn’t get up to leave, immediately.   
  
Stiles had rode him long and slow, before he couldn’t deal with the teasing pace anymore and fought him for control. The teen smelled like bone deep exhaustion, satisfaction and Derek.  
  
Which he almost never did. Stiles was meticulous in the way he cleaned himself, took extra care to hide the fact that they were doing this.  
  
Derek would be offended, if he wasn’t so thankful for the fact, that he didn’t have to admit to fucking an underage teenage boy, after his latest girlfriend turned out to be a thing of nightmares.  
  
He was damaged in ways he couldn’t even begin to describe, much less explain.  
  
In a way, this was doing more for him than for Stiles.  
  
  
  
  
**X**  
  
  
  
  
He’d shown up in the teens bedroom to check up on him. Apologize, even.  
  
Talk to him about the bruises, that littered his skin, ask what happened with Gerard, maybe. See if he was doing better.  
  
And he’d gotten knocked on his ass in return. Stiles had punched him. Skinny, still somewhat sleep deprived and exhausted Stiles had thrown his all into it.  
  
He’d punched him, and fucking told him off, too.  
  
And that never happened to him, anymore.  
  
People who knew how much he fucked up in life, were usually passive aggressive and condescending towards him. Scott was a special case, in that he was full of aggression, but had too much pity to act on it.  
  
Stiles had none of that. Pity, that is, he had a lot of aggression.  
  
They fought for a while.  
  
Derek took care not to wolf out, but he punched back and shoved back and pushed back and yanked Stiles back by his hair to try and force him to submit, which he fucking never did on his own. Not in a way that mattered to him anyway.  
  
Somewhere along the way Stiles’ scent changed into something he was all too familiar with and beneath all of his own guilt and self-hatred, he knew he wanted him, too.  
  
So bruising hands turned into searching ones.  
  
Pushing was met with grinding and when they were tumbling onto the bed, the last coherent thought left Derek and all he did was feel.  
  
There was something liberating about losing yourself in someone else.

  
  
  
**X**

  
  
  
They never cuddled, feeling too raw and sensitive, when they were done.  
  
It was probably the only scenario, in which Stiles fell asleep quickly. Derek would love to do that, too, but he couldn’t.  
  
He needed to go back.  
  
Shower.  
  
Hide the fact that he’d done that.  
  
That he was a twenty-four-year-old that was banging an extremely unstable seventeen-year-old, who just survived the most traumatic thing that can happen to a person.  
  
He wouldn’t keep doing it, if he thought he was hurting Stiles, but other people wouldn’t understand.  
  
Hell, he almost didn’t.  
  
He recognized this as something he’d never had before. It was a shitty deteriorated version of it, but it was there, nonetheless and it demanded to be acknowledged.  
  
He trusted Stiles to keep their secret until they were ready, trusted him to take what he needed and give what he wanted, trusted him to make these choices for himself.  
  
He even trusted him to have his back, and that last one was maybe the most telling of them all.  
  
Hell, Stiles would probably laugh at him for it, because Stiles lost all of his trust in himself.  
  
Possession could do that to you.  
  
Derek stared at the teen, who was still sleeping, sprawled out half across his chest.  
  
He had bruises over his hip bones and on his neck.  
  
There was also a very clear handprint on the younger man’s upper arm.  
  
Stiles really did bruise like a peach. To be fair he'd probably look just as bad, if his healing didn't destroy the evidence, the moment it manifested.  
  
His body never told a story, not like Stiles' did. It didn't show the scars of what he'd overcome. It just was. Stagnant, ever-changing with the wolf and yet never really changing at all.  
  
Stiles' body was still recovering, but he was slowly getting his lean muscular built back and it showed in the way he held himself.  
  
The moles were especially lovely. He liked tracing them with his tongue or fangs, whenever he got the chance.  
  
  
**He had to leave.**  
  
  
Couldn’t stay.  
  
No matter how right it felt.  
  
There was no way that he’d risk what they had, for a night of warmth and a breakfast over statuary rape charges with a disapproving parent.  
  
He sighed.  
  
Then he carefully shuffled out from under Stiles.  
  
One day.  
  
One day, when Stiles was older, he’d stay.  
  
He thought about how it would feel to be asked to stay the night, when he hopped out the window.  
  
Have breakfast with Stiles and his father. Would he ever be a part of them? The Stilinski family. Right now, surrounded by the smell of their sex and cum and just Stiles, he felt like it.  
  
It would be nice, if Stiles smelled like him, too, when they could be open about it.  
  
They could easily maintain his scent in Stiles baseline. It would probably be enough if he just gave him a few of his sweaters to wear.  
  
The guy loved hiding under layers of clothing, anyway.  
  
He groaned. He was clearly delusional. It was a wonder that they'd lasted this long, already. They’d probably crash and burn within the next month.   
  
They were too broken to even attempt anything more, but then again, this was Stiles they were talking about.  
  
The same guy that accepted, loved and supported his newly-made-werewolf best friend.  
  
The one that kept trying to save everyone. No matter at which cost, to his personal life. Even now, he was thinking about ways to help.  
  
He’d never forget the look on Stiles' face, when he drove Lydia into the warehouse, to help Jackson. The hurt that had been followed by the grim realization that that had been it. The pride that had followed the shocked acceptance.  
  
Who could blame him for wanting someone like that by his side?  
  
Who could blame him for believing that if Stiles thought he was still good, he could trust in that too?  
  
He swore to himself that he’d stay, the next night.  
  
That was his nightly ritual.  
  
He promised himself a change that he craved and wanted. One, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to implement for a long time.  
  
But that was okay.  
  
He wasn’t stressing himself out about it.  
  
He knew why he couldn’t do it and he hoped that it would change someday, but right now he was just trying not to think too much about it. He realized that what they had ran deeper and he knew that he would have to try a lot harder to overcome his fears.  
  
He snorted derisively.  
  
That was all he could do, anyway.  
  
Try.

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review! Knowing you took the time to tell me what you think about this, means a lot to me and is insanely motivating! :)


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